Making Nice With The Chicks

Sunday night at the Grammies, The Dixie Chicks cleaned up. They won five awards including The Big Three: Best Song, Best Record, and Best Album. And don’t ask me the difference, because nobody really knows. The morning after, there were several competing theories about the Chix dominance including:

• Vindication and support of the girls in their long-running feud with Dubya.
• A nose-thumbing at Blue State Murika for being so mean to them.
• Further proof of the terminally middle-brow taste of Grammy voters.
• Voters scared Justin Timberlake would use the trophy as a prop in a “Dick In A Box” sketch.
• The album might have actually been good.

Whether their foreign soil bashing has turned out to be a good or bad career move depends on your larger viewpoint. Personally, I prefer my musicians a little on the lefty side. They tend to make better music.

I had an excellent sideline seat to much of the original outrage when Natalie Maines declared that she was ashamed that Bush was from Texas to a London audience back in 2003. My wife had gotten an award that included a trip to a technology teacher convention in Nashville. I tagged along to soak up the country and western ambience. I’ve been a closeted country fan since I learned how smutty C&W songs are.

We did the whole tourist routine including Ryman’s Auditorium, Opryland, and a pilgrimage to the Jack Daniels factory. I wanted to see some live music, but didn’t care for the smoky peanuts-on-the-floor places. From the internet, I learned about the Bluebird Café which is a songwriters’ showcase venue.

Country music is a songwriter’s medium and many of the most talented people in Nashville write the words others sing. The signature event at the Bluebird is their in-the-round acoustic jams where four songwriters sit in a circle and take turns playing their tunes. My memory is pretty fuzzy, but the night we went, the line-up included the late Robert Byrne, the guy responsible for most of Shenandoah’s hits. Not that I hold that against him.

The elder statesman of the night was Richard Leigh who wrote the classic Crystal Gayle hit “Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue”. There were audible gasps when he mentioned that The Dixie Chicks had recorded one of his songs. He shook his head and distanced himself from the politics and went on to sing “Cold Day In July”, a sweet non-controversial ballad from their Fly album.

Dixie Chicks-Cold Day In July

The whole Chicks controversy was delicately avoided by the other performers, but they did like to rib Leigh about the decidedly Gallic spelling of his last name. Remember, this was at the height of Freedom Fries mania.

Natalie’s statement and disapproving responses from other musicians were featured on all the local news shows, but I didn’t see any public burnings of either records or effigies. I did see plenty of aspiring musicians living the life described in “Long Time Gone”:

Now me, I went to Nashville,
Tryin' to beat the big deal
Playin' down on Broadway
Gettin' there the hard way
Living from a tip jar
Sleeping in my car
Hocking my guitar
Yeah I’m gonna be a star

We went honky-tonkin’ down Broadway (the one in Nashville, not to be confused with the one in New York where I stalk celebrities) on a Thursday night when the dozen or more bars (most no wider than you can swing a cat) don’t have a cover charge. The more popular venues will shuffle in bands on an hourly basis all night long. Tootsie’s Orchard Lounge has one stage in the front and one in the back so the live music never stops. Other places were nearly deserted except for the singer on the barstool. We hit about a half dozen bars in less than an hour, not even stopping for a drink in some. The common thread was that all these performers were playing for tips, practice, and publicity. And you can only fill the gas tank with one of those.

The Chicks have paid their dues and are entitled to their opinion. My wife and I caught them at the MCIVerizon Center stop on their recent Bible Belt avoiding tour. The rocking but haunting “Not Ready To Make Nice” had the crowd on their feet. And the Grammy voters marking their ballot.

Blatant Comment Whoring™: Do you get annoyed when singers and celebrities push their political opinions?